


Yellow Light

by bluesamutra



Series: Dust [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesamutra/pseuds/bluesamutra
Summary: It's like Groundhog Day
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Dust [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190777
Kudos: 14





	Yellow Light

Bono is singing that he still hasn't found what he's looking for; and Mulder knows how he feels. When this song came out he had been working under Bill Patterson for almost a year and thought he knew it all. Looking back he realizes he knew shit and things haven't improved much.

The bar is packed with off duty cops celebrating the capture of an unsub they'd been hunting for the past three weeks. The back-slapping and glass-raising are a thin veneer though; no one in this room has forgotten that five little girls are still dead. 

Mulder looks up from his pile of shredded Bud label as two fresh drinks slide onto the pockmarked bar in front of him and Scully.

"These are on Tom over there," the bartender says in a thick Southern drawl. A heavy-set, kind looking woman in her fifties, she eyeballs them knowingly for a moment before wiping her hands on a towel and moving on to serve the next customer. Mulder grasps the sweaty bottle of Bud and finds Detective Sawyer's eyes over the smoky room. Sawyer tilts his head in a nod of gratitude and Mulder offers him a salute with the bottle. He's a good guy who put everything he had into solving this case; Mulder wished all the local cops they dealt with were as straightforward as him.

Scully lifts her own glass to her lips and takes a long sip, ice chinking against the stirrer. It's nearly midnight and they'd been up since six am. They are both dead on their feet but somehow she manages to look as fresh as the day they arrived in Lafayette, Indiana. He wonders how she does it; he can smell the hum of his own sweat even over the cloying smoke in the room, and when he runs a hand over his face, stubble scratches his fingertips.

He can only think of a couple of times he'd seen Scully drink, and even then it'd just been one or two. But she's made up for it tonight - hell, they all have. When Skinner called them into his office to hand out the assignment, neither of them knew what an emotional rollercoaster it was going to be. In fact they both jumped on it as chance to get out of the office and their own heads for a while.

The case had been terrible; five little girls who had done to them what no one should have to endure. When Skinner had summonsed them to his office and handed over the assignment, Mulder had wanted to beg Scully not to come, but that would have meant stepping over the line she had drawn whereby he could fuck her but not love her. So instead, he casually pointed out that she could refuse it if she wanted. She had turned her sad blue eyes on him, the colour so deep he felt that he could find the answer to anything if only he could look into them long enough. He had known that she could never refuse an assignment like this.

Scully sets the glass back on the bar and pushes herself to her feet, nodding her head towards the restroom. Turning away from him, she pauses for a second to steady herself before she walks off. Yup, he's definitely never seen Scully drink this much. She walks purposefully towards the restroom, but there's a slight sway in her hips that isn't usually there, her movements just a little too calculated to be natural. 

Mulder himself has reached that stage of impending inebriation where he's starting to feel disconnected from his body. The buzz of conversation, the clinking of bottles raised in toasts, it's all a little surreal. He takes another drag from his beer, savouring the coldness of it, and looks up at the TV overhead. Muted images from the local news flicker across the screen, fuzzy with bad reception. 

"We couldn't have done it without you and Agent Scully," Tom Sawyer is suddenly standing beside him, looking up at the screen too. 

"You'd have got there in the end Tom," he says, and he really believes it. Detective Sawyer may be a small town cop but he's no fool.

Sawyer looks him in the eye and smiles slightly. "I'm heading off now, hardly seen my wife for weeks. I just wanted to say thank you." A handshake later, Mulder watches him head out the door as Scully slides back onto her seat.

"Detective Sawyer stopped by to say thanks," he tells her as she stabs at the lime in her vodka, making the tonic go cloudy. Bono's been replaced by Pulp now, and the music seems to have notched up a level. He's not sure whether it's exhaustion or old age but Mulder's ears are starting to hurt.

He turns to look at Scully and his pulse jumps. The look of concentration on her face, the gentle curve of her cheek in the shadowy light of this crummy wood-panelled bar in Lafayette, the slope of her graceful neck disappearing into the collar of her suit. Out of nowhere his teeth ache with desire, the memory of how she bit her lip as she came is so powerful he can barely breathe. 

He's loved Scully for years. Their partnership has been his rock for so long he can hardly remember time Before Scully. But it's complicated between them. So very, very complicated.

So much has happened since that night in his apartment; her cancer, Emily, losing the X-Files - so many things which got in the way. When Diana showed up he had flirted with the idea of a fling. As complicated as some things were with her, sex would have been wonderfully uncomplicated in comparison to with Scully. With Diana he wouldn't have to worry about screwing everything up. He wouldn't have to worry about losing her. But in the end he resisted temptation, for all the good it did him. The night in his apartment just joined the list of things that they didn't talk about. White elephant number one.

And now here she is, sitting next to him in a backstreet bar in Indiana, warm and vital and healthy. And so fucking sexy. He knows what he's missing now, knows how sweet loving Scully can be.

"Let's get out of here Scully," he says peeling off a couple of Grants and throwing them onto the bar. 

Scully looks over at him, her eyes bright despite the hour. He wants to kiss her right there. 

They step out of the bar and into a rush of cold, fresh air. It feels like every one of his Buds hit him at once and he stumbles into Scully. 

"Careful Mulder," she grabs his arm to steady him. "How am I going to explain it to Skinner if you trip over drunk and break your leg?" She giggles at this and he can't help but smile back, so rare is her laughter.

Luckily for both of them, their hotel is only two blocks away. He doubts his legs could've carried him much further, and he wraps an arm around Scully as much for support as to shelter her from the icy air. 

When the elevator doors in the Wildcat Creek Lodge slide shut they are enclosed in silence for the first time all day, and Mulder's ears ring. Scully roots around in her pockets for her room key and he watches the way her cashmere sweater pulls across her breasts. His arousal had been doused by the cold on the walk back but here in the elevator, with warmth returning to his fingers, he can feel the heat seeping into other places too.

Their rooms are opposite one another and while she is still patting her pockets down in search of her key, he unlocks his door and wedges it open with his foot. She looks over and smiles, finally in possession of her card.

"'Night Mulder," her cheeks are flushed from the chilled air and 6 vodka tonics and in the soft light of the corridor, she has never looked more beautiful.

"Stay," he murmurs, catching her hand in his and giving it a light tug.

She looks at their entwined hands and then at his face. "Mulder... I..."

"Stay," he repeats tugging her hand until she relents and lets him pull her into his room. As the door closes behind them she faces him awkwardly, shafts of yellow light filtering through the open blinds and highlighting her in narrow bands. 

Mulder cups her face in his hands, running his thumbs over her lips. Her eyes dart nervously and he can feel her tremble under his fingers.

"Relax," he commands gently, and she does, sinking into his touch.

The last time they were together was hard and fast, as much about obliterating Jerse from her memory, and his, as it was about anything else. This time Mulder wants to savour it. He dips his head until his lips graze hers, a chaste kiss belying his desire. 

Stepping back he slides his hands down her neck and draws her tailored blazer off her shoulders, letting the soft wool garment drop to the floor. He peppers her neck with kisses as she slides his own jacket off his back and reaches for his tie. It joins the growing pile of clothes at their feet.

As his shirt joins the pile, she stares at the scar on his left shoulder. She presses an open- mouthed kiss on the puckered flesh. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her fingers fluttering against the skin which still tingles from her kiss.

He clasps her hand in his against his shoulder. "Just don't do it again," he smiles, and she smiles with him.

Their lips meet again, softly exploring, and the luxurious yarn of her sweater rubs enticingly against his chest. He grasps the buttery fabric and pulls it over her head.

He is mesmerized by the rise and fall of her flushed chest, the gentle, inviting swell of her breasts. He can see her nipples silhouetted against her satin bra. This is what he missed when they had sex in his apartment, when they didn't even get their clothes off.

"I've... changed," she says, self-consciously, and he knows she means in ways other than just physical. His heart twinges painfully when he thinks of everything she's been through.

He cups her face in his hands. "You're beautiful," he says honestly, his voice hoarse from arousal, and six Buds.

Her strong hands slip round his neck and pull him to her tightly. He runs his tongue along her bottom lip and her mouth parts, small puffs of limey breath warming his upper lip. The rest of their clothes join the heap on the floor and they sink onto the bed. 

Their tongues meander warmly for long minutes, and Mulder drags his hand up her smooth thigh, grazing her ass and caressing the soft skin of her stomach. His fingers drift over her breasts, teasing. She is as slender as she has ever been, but where her cancer had ravaged her, she is now athletic. 

She shifts under him, and the sight of Scully spreading her legs for him is nearly his undoing. Grasping her hands in his, he nudges at her opening, relishing the inviting warmth of her body. He enjoys the furrow of her brow as he slides the head of his cock over her enflamed clit, enjoys even more the flush that spreads across her cheeks when he whispers in her ear, "I can't believe how wet you are for me, Scully."

He slides into her slowly, feeling her body stretch to accommodate him. Her legs wrap around him, a small foot running up and down the back of his leg as he sets an exquisitely slow pace. God, fucking Scully had been sublime but this... this is better.

His arms are shaking from the strain of holding his weight and sweat pools in the dip of his back as he moves rhythmically inside her. She pushes at his shoulder, turning her head to the side to break their kiss, "Roll over Mulder." 

He flops gratefully onto his back on the cool sheet beside her, half reclined against a mass of pillows. She straddles him, hands sliding over his heaving chest as she sinks down onto his cock. He can't contain the grunt that escapes him at this new angle; he is so deeply embedded inside her he can feel her cervix pressing on the head of his cock. As she starts to move, the only thing he can do is clamp his eyes shut and concentrate on not coming. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it's so fucking good.

"Yeah, it is," Scully breathes, and his eyes snap open as he realizes he spoke out loud.

Taking in the sight of her, glistening in sweat as she slides painfully slowly up and down on him, he realises he is not going to be able to last. He slides his hand up her taut thigh until he finds her clit and he circles his thumb around her swollen flesh. A hitch in her breathing lets him know she's close and he doubles his efforts, sitting up to capture a breast in his mouth, teeth worrying her nipple.

Scully's fingers comb his hair and hold him in place and the feeling of being surrounded by her is so sweet, he wishes he could last forever.

But then she is pulling his head away from her breast and pressing her lips to his. Her tongue is in his mouth and he can taste vodka and lime and Scully, and her walls are clamping around him so tightly that he is coming. And this is what he wishes could last forever.

*** 

Mulder cracks his eyes open, blinded by the sunlight streaming in the window. Who forgot to close the damn blinds? His feels like he's been trampled by an elephant. He reaches out for Scully and finds an empty space beside him, the sheets cold. She's clearly been gone for hours.

He flops back on the pillow with a groan. One step forward and two steps back. It's like fucking Groundhog Day.


End file.
